


Purely Professional

by TedizStalker



Category: Bx: Execute (OFF Fangame), C/S/R (OFF Fangame)
Genre: And Ghost lost, Dubious Consent, Fingering, It's not Ghost if he's not swearing, It's suppose to be a simple prostate exam, M/M, bets were placed, enough said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:26:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26353387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TedizStalker/pseuds/TedizStalker
Summary: Ghost can be quite the stubborn patient, especially when he doesn't remember his appointments.It's a good thing Flo can keep to his profession while on the clock.And luckily for Ghost, he's got the last appointment of the day.
Relationships: Ghost Batter/Flo, Ghost Batter/Huaso
Kudos: 4





	Purely Professional

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case; if you're under 18, or you are of legal age and this isn't your cup of tea, please, click back now. I'm not gonna lock this behind a login this time. You have been warned.
> 
> Inspired by 'a bet' that fourcorruptedpositives and triplerunningpunches. Unfortunately, only one side of the shenanigans was archived.
> 
> So once again I took some liberty.
> 
> And yes, this does take place some time after Embers Rising.

It’s another rainy day.

That seems to be the thing in the village of the birds, but it’s nothing that a broad umbrella can’t shield him from.

Florence wonders if he’s taking too much of Huaso’s time just asking for frequent renovations to his hospital, like the next floor, or a new specialist focused wing. As the months crawled on, and inhabitants looking for work continued to pass through while assisting with planning and construction, it soon became clear that the hospital isn’t the only one being built up from the ground. The village of the birds soon became a small town, well guarded against the like of ghouls dwelling in the forest during the middle of the night.

A road, beaten off the track, forms with time between this small town, leading out of the forest and into Mida’s farm. A steady supply of food, of meat, fruit, vegetables, animal goods, and seeds would often be carted back and forth. This kept the town inhabitants well fed, hearty, and strong.

Flo looks out the window, first at the rain, then at the dirt road. No doubt muddy from the torrential downpour. It reminds him of the few times he went camping with Huaso, and the sky poured its buckets before he could finish his spectre stories.

It is also in this moment that Flo remembers what Huaso told him about Ghost.

Just now, his cell rings. The caller coming from his purifier friend that he was just thinking about.

The doctor smiles.

If he’s booking an appointment, this should be interesting...

~~

“Okay, mint marshmallow. What’s so urgent that you had to drag my fuckin’ ass over to your place?”

Ghost didn’t know what he was doing here, after Flo tunneled into his home, when it was his turn to clean the house while his brothers were out. And he’s dead. Why does he need an unscheduled appointment?

As he glances around, he can see that it’s raining outside.

“Have you tried looking at your phone?” Flo asks, shuffling through some paperwork. Or it seems like that anyway.

Miffed, Ghost pulls out his cell.

There is one message.

He does have an appointment at this exact time. He doesn’t remember making this appointment.

“And?”

“You called me up two weeks ago, complaining about an itch.”

“I don’t fuckin’ remember that.”

“You really do have a head akin to a box of rocks, as Huaso would say.”

“And _only_ Huaso can get away with saying that! Stupid shit Health harbringer.”

“I’m not shit, I’m clean as a sterilized whistle.”

“You’re a pyromaniac. What do you mean you’re not hot shit? When we first found you, you sure as Shit Sherlock burned like one.”

Is Ghost going to be that stubborn?

Flo heaves a sigh.

“Tell you what? I’m not letting you head back home right now; you need a tunnel there. And Huaso’s too busy to be answering your cell anyway. It’s raining, you have the last appointment of the day, but if you’re going to be stubborn as usual, we may as well make a bet. Sounds good?”

After a bit of rummaging, Flo pulls out a box and puts it on his desk. On it is what looks like Enoch laying on the operation table, with a red nose, and about two cheeky Elsens trying to take things that don’t belong in a body with a pair of tweezers. Like a bucket.

“We play Operation. If you win, I’ll tunnel you home without doing anything else. If I win, we’re having that check up.”

~~

It became apparent, real quick, who had the precision skills here.

Flo picked on the smaller, narrower pieces to pluck out of the board. Ghost, typically untrustworthy of his coordination, started with the big pieces.

Ignoring the standard rules, it’s not a matter of how many times one triggers the buzzer to get a game over. It’s a matter of how many points one scores by the time the last piece is removed. And Ghost triggered the buzzer. A lot. He would spit out a curse, fuming with his tail wagging and fold his arms whenever he has to hand his wasted turn over to Flo. The doctor he was playing up against only got buzzed twice. But only because the purifier lacking sportsmanship ‘accidentally’ shook the table. One of which was due to a fist slamming onto a table from another bitter transition of the tweezers.

By the end of it, Ghost managed to pluck out two easy and three medium pieces.

Florence managed to pick out all else.

The winner was crisp and clear, like black and white.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. THIS IS ABSOLUTE DICK TWISTING BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU RIGGED THIS PIECE OF UTTER FUCKING DUMPSTER SHIT FIRE DIDN'T YOU YOU FUCKING EMBODIMENT OF AN ASSHOLE!”

“No, I didn’t rig the game. If anything, you cheated twice by trying to trip me up during my turn.”

“YOU FUCKING TUBER MUNCHING MATCH FLICKING APPLE CIDER PISS DOWNSTREAM-!”

A simple grab to Ghost’s ear got him to shut up, his eyelid twitching.

“Quit being such a baby and lay your chest and stomach on the examination table. Leave your tail hanging and drop your pants, too.”

~~

“This fucking sucks.”

Ghost bites, continuing to put up a protest until he was finally encouraged to make the call. When Huaso did answer, he cleared up on the reason why the purifier is here in the first place.

Ghost did make that call. Ghost booked that appointment. On his boyfriend’s urging, so it’s no wonder it slipped his mind. There was an itch that needed looking at. And it didn’t hurt to get a prostate exam.

Right?

Except, so far, only the purifier himself and Huaso know that his ass doesn’t function the way that it would. Anything he eats is a hundred percent used, dissolved, to fuel his essence and keep his mind, or lack thereof, sane.

“This won’t take long, I promise.” Flo reassures, getting a pair of gloves on.

“You’re a fuckin’ doctor, you’re not suppose to take your sweet-ass time.”

Ghost begins to grumble some more. His eyes widen as his body gives a hard flinch. That lubricant on the gloves is _icy!_

“FUCK! Warn me, will you?!”

“I didn’t think it was necessary, seeing as you and Huaso constantly fool around.”

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business-!”

The purifier begins snarling, but an arm quickly moves to cover his own mouth when the finger is pushed in. If Flo is going to keep this on a professional level, he shouldn’t take too long.

And to be frank, that was the initial plan. Flo’s finger hadn’t reached the first knuckle when he felt a sudden change in temperature on the inside, along with how intricate the walls feel. Imagine what it would feel like if he were to--  
Flo shakes his head. No, he’s a doctor. He barely got consent, as a doctor, to do this. He might need to ask Huaso about it later. As the lubricant made it easier to push deeper, he could feel the other give into a shudder. Quite possibly biting back a moan. He watches as Ghost’s tail gives an agitated flick before becoming undone in pleasured lethargy. So why is it easier to move his finger now?

Flo pauses. He’s going to need to insert a second. He pulls the one finger back out to the first knuckle.

“The f-fuck?”  
Ghost glares angrily over his shoulder. “Quit f-fuckin’ around!”

“Hush, I can’t reach the prostate with one finger alone.” Flo argues back, shushing the other as he pushes two fingers back in. Is it just him, or was it easier to move? His second finger doesn’t even have lubrication on it.

As Ghost muffled some embarrassing noises in one arm, his other hand grips at the table, causing the metal to creak and groan under his fingers. Perhaps if Flo was doing this as a fuck buddy and not as his doctor, this wouldn’t feel so wrong. He was fighting every desire to lash out and break Flo’s stupid blue glasses.  
Did he seriously consider that? What would Huaso say about it? He’s already aware of his boyfriend’s pyrophobia, and while some misunderstandings have had their crinkles flattened, Flo’s hyperactive personality still pushes at Huaso’s patience like unwanted attention.

“Ggk--!”  
On reflex, Ghost bites down on his wrist, sending a shock of pain through his arm, interrupting any moan that wanted to weasel out the moment those two fingers pressed into his prostate. His face is flushed, possibly on fire. What is he doing back there? Is he _sure_ this is a prostate examination and not just Flo fucking around? He’s going to be so fucking sorry if he leaves this purifier half-baked!

Well, the pleasure aspect is normal, if amplified. But even a bit of feeling around and the doctor can tell that Ghost’s prostate is in good order. There is something more to this if the walls were secreting a fluid, as though it functioned like a--  
Enough taking mental notes. His curiosity can wait. He got his results. Best to pull out before he walks home with a two-thirds healed over black eye.

~~

The check up; done.

Ghost is very healthy.

But that gluteus maximus is a lie. While it is in the shape of one, it belies the true nature of Ghost Batter’s rear, and it’s actual function.

It’s just a pity that he’s sterile.

Huaso once told Florence that Ghost had always wanted children.

~~

“So, how did yer appointment go?” Huaso greets with a smile. He flinches, but resumes smiling when a hand rests against the wall, just left of his head. Ghost’s other hand is already feeling him up.

“Fuckin’ waste of time, and he left me fuckin’ half-baked.”  
Ghost grits out, panting. He’s still flustered over the whole ordeal, but at least Flo kept to his word; he was being professional about it. “Fuck me, and we’ll call it a day.”

The miner didn’t have to be told twice. It’s evening, and the night shift will start soon. He uses a hand of his own to open the pocket tunnel up against the wall right behind him.

“Ya come ta the right person for a bit of catchin’, love.”


End file.
